


Touch Me

by DktrAgonizer



Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Light Bondage, M/M, Orgasm Delay/Denial
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 09:35:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8440570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DktrAgonizer/pseuds/DktrAgonizer
Summary: This is the part he loves best: the part where Edward's pride quickly crumbles in his need to get what he wants. He's so pretty like this, expression strained and voice high, breathy, needy. It's such a delight to hear the Riddler beg.





	

It starts with Edward Nygma complaining ceaselessly, as many things do. Even when a plan has been carried out to near-perfection, he'll find and gripe on about any tiny flaw. Jonathan half suspects he does it simply to have something to talk about; it's no secret that the Riddler loves the sound of his own voice.

Jon likes to catch him mid-rant, to press his lips against Edward's and let the rest of the sentence spill into his mouth. Sometimes it's enough to silence him, and sometimes - like now - he gets indignant at the interruption, makes it clear that he would very much like to continue complaining, _thank you_ . These moments are a welcome challenge; Jonathan revels in finding out how and how _quickly_ he can shift the Riddler’s attention from himself to _him._

He slips a hand underneath Edward’s shirt and slides it up his torso slowly, fingers gliding light over skin. He delivers a bite to Edward’s collarbone before trailing kisses up the side of his neck. He can feel Edward relaxing under him, letting out a pleased hum between his teeth as a hand raises to tangle in Jonathan’s hair.

“I hope you don’t mind if I move us,” Edward says, voice breathy. It's a welcome tonal change from just a minute ago. Now there’s a hand on the small of Jon’s back, pushing as Edward moves backwards, coaxing him into following. It's a small relief that the bedroom is so near, because Jonathan has no intent on pulling himself away for even the slightest moment right now.

He's got his mouth on the bare skin of Edward's chest by the time they're on the bed, and he can feel Edward starting to tug the shirt off as he kisses down. Jonathan catches both of Edward's wrists in one hand. The petulant noise of irritation he gets in return is entirely too satisfying. It doesn't take much effort to push Edward back, despite the defiant look on his face. Jonathan has to lean far forward to tug Edward's arms to the slatted headboard of the bed.

“Jonathan, I have _ropes_ for this,” Edward protests as Jon winds the sleeves of the shirt through the bars and around his wrists. It's cotton today, not silk, and thankfully much easier to tie into a knot. Still, Edward offers no resistance as Jonathan ties a second knot around his wrists.

“Well, I guess you should have thought ahead,” Jonathan replies, and oh that flash of anger in his partner’s eyes is beautiful. He's always so much more passionate when he's angry. Jonathan drops his mouth to Edward's chest again, and he can hear Edward's breath hitch as he kisses slowly down to the waistband of his jeans.

“Be sure you don't ruin it,” Edward says, giving a feeble tug of his arms. “And you’d better hope those knots come out. Regardless of what many people may _think,_ cutting somebody free of clothes is hardly sexy, and I-”

Jonathan silences him again with a kiss. He has half a mind to just gag him, but he's tried it before and it's never worth it. He prefers to hear the sounds Edward Nygma makes unhindered - and the rants should stop soon enough. He's going to make sure of that. Jonathan moves his mouth to Edward's neck and bites, and the noise of protest in Edward's throat turns to one of pleasure instead. He sits back, admiring the view under him: The Riddler, bound to his own bed by his shirt, upper body laid bare, bruises forming on either side of his neck. His eyes are brown, not the usual, brilliant green; no contacts today. Jonathan likes them like this.

“Are you done, then?” Jonathan asks, and he bites back a smirk at the eye roll Edward gifts him with. “Good boy.” That earns him a furious look, but Jonathan ignores it and pulls his own shirt over his head. A small twinge of discomfort still follows every time he bares his own skin, the scars on his back made apparent, but it's gotten easier over the months - and it does help ease his mind when the Riddler’s hands aren't allowed to roam.

Jonathan undoes his belt first, taking his time and enjoying the way Edward writhes under him with impatience. His pants and underwear get tossed to the side, joining his shirt and - after a moment - his shoes and socks in a small pile on the floor. He can feel Edward’s eyes on him the entire time, roving over every inch of him without any shame.

He has to be more careful with Edward's things; he's been chewed out for it enough. His shoes have to be unlaced and set down by the end of the bed. Edward lifts his hips to allow Jonathan to pull his jeans and the question mark patterned boxers underneath off, and those get folded and tossed carefully onto the nearby chair. He leaves Edward's socks on, like he usually requests when they’re long and (in Edward’s opinion) cute. They're a knee-length purple argyle today.

“So, the order of business?” Edward asks, offering a wide grin. There's still an edge of irritation in his voice, but the excitement is clearly winning over it. “Although seeing as how I'm already tied up, I can make an educated guess.”

He feigns a moment of contemplation. “I believe the top priority is getting you to be quiet.”

Edward's eyebrows raise, and his grin only widens. “I look forward to seeing just how you're going to make me.”

Instead of replying, Jonathan steps to the bedside drawers and rifles through it until he finds the condoms and the bottle of lube. He can feel Edward's eyes on him as he moves back to the end of the bed and unscrews the lid.

“You realize I'm never quiet,” Edward says, and Jonathan glances up to see that the grin he’s wearing has become less enthusiastic and more mischievous. Jonathan can feel the heat rush to his cheeks, but whether it's from the comment, the grin, or maybe even both, he isn't sure. The reaction delights Edward either way. “Of course, you've never really complained about _that_ before. Are you certain you want to try to stifle me? You were _so_ disappointed last time I - mm.”

He cuts himself off with a moan as Jonathan presses a finger into his ass, and his eyes slip closed for the briefest moment as he lifts his hips to give Jonathan more room. “Your endless chatter,” Jonathan says as he stretches the ring of muscle, “is not the sound I'm interested in hearing.”

Edward laughs, low and punctuated by small noises of approval. “And here I thought you loved my voice.” His wrists strain at the binding, but the shirt holds fast. He'll gripe about having to fix the wrinkles later, but with luck Jonathan will help him forget about it until after he heads back home.

He adds a second finger and leans down to press kisses to Edward's inner thighs. Edward is chattering again, but Jonathan has stopped paying attention. He delivers bites along with the kisses, listening only for the pleasured whimpers each one nets in response. Third finger, and the flow of words finally slows down. He hooks his fingers in, sinking down to the knuckle, and delivers a final bite to Edward's left thigh. “That's more like it,” Jonathan says, eyeing the marks he's left along Edward's skin with satisfaction.

“Touch me,” he gasps as Jonathan removes his fingers and wipes them off.

Edward's watching him (of course), so he offers a smile. “Beg me for it,” he says as he unwraps the condom and starts rolling it down his length. He bites back a grin at the huff of annoyance Edward lets out.

He doesn't beg, not straight away. He never does. It's always the demands first, and Jonathan delights in the way they work themselves into a needy pleading over time; it's unclear if Edward prefers it that way too, or if he's simply too proud to beg when things are just getting started. Either way, this works out well for Jonathan. It wouldn’t be nearly as fun otherwise.

Still, there's no word of protest when Jonathan pushes himself in. He's slow at first, and Edward’s legs wrap around his waist immediately. “Eager for it, aren't you?” Jonathan asks, and he finishes pushing in with enough force to make Edward gasp. “You always are.”

“Touch me,” Edward says again, but Jonathan ignores him. It's much too early to give the Riddler the other half of what he wants. Jonathan’s hands settle on his hips instead as he pulls himself back slowly. Edward squeezes his legs against him, a clear sign that he wants Jon to move faster.

“So impatient,” Jon comments, pushing himself in slowly again. “But that’s nothing new. You never have learned how to wait for anything, have you?”

Edward's mouth twitches up into a momentary grin. “I value my time as much as you do, doctor. I'm-” His next words get caught in a moan as Jonathan speeds up his thrusts.

“No, Nygma,” he says, smirk curling on his face at the pained look of pleasure etched across Edward's. “You're just _needy._ The neediest creature I've ever met.” He settles on a rhythm, and Edward is soon panting beneath him.

“What I _need,_ ” Edward gasps between thrusts, “is for you to _touch me.”_

Jonathan laughs, letting his thumbs smooth over Edward's hip bones. “I already am. If you want something different, you'll have to be more specific.”

“You-” Edward bites back another moan, the effort causing his eyes to close and his teeth to grit for a few seconds. “God _damn_ it, Jonathan, if you don't-”

“I'm sure you can ask nicely, Edward.” This is the part he loves best: the part where Edward's pride quickly crumbles in his need to get what he wants. He's so pretty like this, expression strained and voice high, breathy, needy. It's such a delight to hear the Riddler beg.

“ _Fuck,_ ” Edward says in reply. His eyes lock onto Jonathan's, and, ah, here it comes. “Touch me, touch me, touch my cock, _pleeease._ ” The “please” is well-timed with a hard thrust, and the way it gets drawn out is magnificent.

Jonathan smiles brightly at him and wraps a hand around Edward's cock, finally giving him the stimulation he so desperately wants. “What would people think,” Jonathan says as he pumps his hand in a rhythm matching his thrusts, “to hear the wonderful Riddler begging to be fucked like some common man?”

There's a flash of defiance in Edward's eyes at the comment even as he bucks into Jon's hand, but he can't get any words of protest out. “It didn't even take much,” Jonathan continues. “Tell me, Edward: Are you always so easily broken in bed, or am I a special case?”

Edward's hands are straining at the shirt binding them, and Jonathan knows him well enough to know they'd be reaching for his face if they could. Edward will have to beg for that, too. “And you call _me_ talkative in bed,” Edward manages to get out with a laugh.

“There's a difference,” Jon says, squeezing his partner’s cock until he's squirming. “I don't care to hear all your mindless chatter. But _you_ love it when I tell you just how needy you are. You enjoy me demanding you beg, even if you're too prideful to admit it.” He brings his free hand up to cup Edward's cheek, thumb skating across his lips. Edward immediately tries to suck it into his mouth, but Jon pulls his hand back with a noise of admonishment. “Greedy,” he chides.

Edward whines, long and loud, not even bothering to hide his frustration. “Let me have your fingers, Jon.”

Jonathan laughs again. “Is that the extra push you need? You stoop to new lows every day. What _would_ everybody think?” He obliges Edward anyway, pushing first one finger and then two past Edward's lips. He sucks on them eagerly, head bobbing and tongue swirling.

It doesn't take long from there. Edward bucks up with renewed vigor as he sucks Jon’s fingers back as far as he can, and Jon knows he's right at the edge. Edward squeezes his legs hard around him, back starting to arch - and abruptly, Jon removes his fingers and _stops._

“Fuck!” Edward cries out, frustration nearly tangible as he glares at Jonathan. “You're - ugh, you're unbelievable. You always do this!”

Jonathan leans forward, mouth curling up into another smirk. He's still buried inside Edward, deep and unmoving. Edward's straining against the bindings again, and still bucking against the hand wrapped around his cock. “Beg,” Jonathan says simply.

He gets an irritated huff in response. Jonathan suppresses the need to roll his eyes and instead removes his hand. “Oh well, if you don't want-”

“Wait!” Edward cries, and this is the highest his voice has pitched tonight. “Wait,” he says again as he tugs hard against the shirt knotted at his wrists. “Let me come, Jonathan, _please._ ” He's nearly sobbing with desperation, and Jonathan doesn't hide his smile. Beautiful.

Wordlessly, Jonathan resumes - with a faster pace this time, because he knows Edward prefers it. He leans forward across Edward's chest, and Edward raises his head to meet his mouth for a furious kiss. He comes just seconds later, back arched as he squeezes tight around Jon's cock. Jon pulls away from the kiss in time to hear Edward's moan, loud and unfiltered.

Jon hits his own release just after Edward's. He mashes his mouth to Edward's again, kissing and biting hard as they both ride out the waves of pleasure. Edward’s gone soft in his hand and Jon pulls himself out as soon as he gets his breath back. Edward lies there, quiet and content as Jonathan cleans himself up. He gets Edward second, then sits on the side of the bed to reach for the shirt. The knots are undone quickly and easily (much to Edward's relief, he's sure).

Edward sits up and stretches his arms above him. Jonathan pulls him against his side, leaving a kiss to the top of his head. Edward offers him his arms and Jonathan rubs at his wrists, right where the shirt left faint marks in his skin. Too much straining against the knots. They’re faint, though, and they’ll fade soon (not that either of them would have minded if they didn’t). “Good?” he asks, voice soft.

“Good,” Edward affirms. He turns his face so that it's pressed against Jon's collarbone. He leaves one lazy, lingering kiss and mumbles, “But don't call me low next time.”

He rests a hand on the back of Edward's neck, fingers tracing slow circles. His other hand is still on Edward’s wrists, gently rubbing the marks away. “I don't believe I did. What I _said_ was-”

Edward lets out a breath against his skin. “It was an implication. Don't, next time. Please.”

Jonathan pauses. “Alright,” he says after a moment, and delivers a kiss to his forehead. Edward hums, a wordless thank you. They both lapse into a comfortable silence after that, until Edward dozes off against him.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Consider leaving a comment letting me know your thoughts; I'd love to read them!


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